A Dangerous Game
by BouncingKappa
Summary: AU - Bucky Barnes is hired as private security to a young CEO being targeted by an unknown threat. Bucky expected a high stakes job but he never expected Sadie Reid, his smart, beautiful, and challenging client. Saving her life is part of the job but Bucky wasn't prepared for her to save him in the process.


**A/N: So, this is the product of one of those ideas that just wouldn't leave me and spun out of control. It's a bit outlandish but that's what makes it fun! Although some of the details are definitely hyped-up for the purposes of fiction I've done my best to be accurate in my research. Expect plenty of action, romance, and banter in the process of this little mystery-adventure!**

 **Also – to anyone wondering, I do plan to finish my other AU and** _ **Songbirds**_ **is, as always, a work in progress! I just couldn't leave this idea alone!**

 **Warnings for a little bit of violence and language. I hope you like this as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

 **Chapter 1: From L.A. to New York**

The clock read eleven fifty-eight. The numbers stood out on the top bar of the digital screen on the dashboard, surrounded by lacquered wood. Below, a map of the street and surrounding blocks showed the snarls of traffic that were only just beginning to clear up. As the traffic light overhead turned green, a sleek black town car moved forward with the flow of traffic and time moved with it, the powerful engine humming quietly. The clock read eleven fifty-nine. The car ran velvet smooth over the unevenly paved streets, the tires passing with ease over manhole covers and potholes that littered the road. The driver, a middle-aged man with a heavy black mustache kept both hands on the wheel, deftly guiding himself and his passenger between the crush of yellow cabs. Through the lowered partition, a woman sitting in the back seat released a sigh and mentally counted the seconds until the clock ticked over to midnight.

"The witching hour," mused Sadie Reid to herself as she raised her grey eyes to look up at the skyscrapers that towered above her, monoliths to industry, technology, money, and power. Absently she lifted up her long legs and tucked them beneath her so she could rub her sore feet, momentarily free of the stiletto heels she'd been wearing since six thirty that morning.

Resting her head against the window, she watched the buildings as they zipped by and started to make up stories for each of the lights still on. She knew from deeply personal experience that there were so many reasons to burn the midnight oil. Perhaps one office held a young associate, chugging coffee and trying to finish a big presentation. In another office two buildings down, Sadie imagined a middle-aged business man working overtime just to avoid going home to an unhappy wife. Was there a young woman in the office three floors up, working twice as hard as her male counterpart all in hopes of snagging a promotion? How many people were eating late-night Chinese food, skewering their bosses while they pitched ideas? Sadie wondered how many clandestine affairs were happening in corner offices and secluded copy rooms. How many stories were taking place all at the same time and all within office buildings similar to the one she was bound for?

She considered her story. The young, single, female CEO escaping a too-long date not for the safety of her upper east side apartment but for her office instead. Tonight comfort couldn't be found in the bottom of a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Instead Sadie would draw solace from annotating financial disclosure forms and reviewing research proposals attached to applications for potential summer interns.

Rolling her head away from the window, she peered through the front windshield and caught a glimpse of the profile of her driver, Marco Reyes. Sadie felt bad for having him out so late on a Tuesday. Shifting forward off her seat, she knelt on the floor and rest her arms on the partition so she could talk to her driver of the past five years. He spared her one sideways glance, his lips twitching in a smile beneath his thick mustache, Marco was long-accustomed the unusual behavior of his client. Marco also possessed a knack for knowing when it was okay to speak out of turn with his boss, something he'd never encountered until he started driving Sadie.

"It's not for nothing, Ms. Reid, but I'm pretty sure most women don't go back to work after going on a date."

Sadie let out a dry laugh. "Calling that fiasco a date is awfully generous."

"What would you call it then?" He asked, his lightly accented voice betraying his mutual amusement.

"A hostage situation," she muttered and Marco's deep-bellied laugh filled the whole car. A grumble of dissatisfaction rose up in her throat. "Laugh all you want. You didn't have to sit across from Henry McAllister III and listen to him wax poetic about playing football for Harvard or how he's revolutionizing the way his family's law firm is reaching clients in the digital age. It was awful, Marco. We're talking a roll of duct tape and a mad-scientist TV monologue away from a full on hostile takeover."

Marco knew better than to argue with Sadie when it came to her overdramatized recountings of her often disappointing dates. Instead he chortled along to her story, picking out the detail he found the most amusing of all. "Harvard has a football team?"

She waggled her eyebrows humorously so he could see them in the rearview mirror. "It does and apparently it has quite the rivalry with Yale. And you only thought the Alabama-Auburn rivalry was serious business," she said sarcastically.

"Sounds like you dodged a bullet, Ms. Reid."

"The seventh in as many months," she replied with a sigh and shook her head. "I mean, is it really so hard for a fairly normal woman to find a fairly normal man in a city of millions?"

"Not to overstep, Ms. Reid, but I think calling yourself 'fairly normal' is a stretch," Marco suggested, using one of his hands to make air quotes while the other stayed locked on the wheel. "Unless you're defining it to mean an under-thirty female CEO of one of the most prosperous tech companies in the country who recently made _Fortune Monthly_ 's top-thirty list and shared the cover page with none other than Tony Stark."

Sadie made a face, wishing she had a snarky comeback to Marco's painfully accurate observation. Instead she buried her face against her forearms and groaned. Of course Marco was right. There was literally nothing even remotely normal about her life anymore. How many other twenty-nine year old women would leave a date just to sit in forty minutes of traffic with the sole purpose of heading back to work at the company they created out of a college dorm room? That was nothing to say of the limited, painfully shallow dating pool Sadie found herself wading through.

"Maybe I should just give up," she muttered disparagingly.

"Or stop letting your rich friends set you up," argued Marco, raising yet another valid point.

"You're right." Sadie sighed. "Maybe I should date the cute guy who runs the newsstand around the corner from my apartment."

"He's already married," replied her driver.

"And there you go dashing my hopes," she teased.

He turned the corner that led to Century Fellows Tower, home of Reid Medical Technologies, Inc., Sadie's company and whole life. Sadie sighed and sat back in her seat, reaching for her shoes. Her swollen feet protested the pointed toes of the blush pink Jimmy Choos. Outside of her window the first flakes of snow were beginning to come down. Sadie shrugged back into her ivory cashmere coat, covering the jewel blue long sleeved wrap dress she wore.

Marco pulled off the main road, right in front of the building. Sadie stifled a yawn and glanced at the lobby, through the glass she could see that Stella and Reggie were working the front desk. She made a mental note to ask Reggie about his newest grandchild. A cup of espresso sounded divine and Sadie wondered if there were any leftover pastries from the morning's R&D meeting. Thinking with longing for a chocolate almond croissant, Sadie slid over to the passenger's side door as Marco put the car in park.

"Thanks, Marco. It's going to be a while so I'll probably just have the front desk call a car for me." He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, frowning.

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying, the missus knows it was going to be a late night."

Sadie smiled while she gathered her work bag, shoving her small clutch into the open top. "It's alright, chances are I won't even make it home tonight."

Marco nodded once and she saw the tight disapproval flash on his face. The unavoidable consequence of having the same driver for so long was that Marco knew her and cared about her enough to have his own opinions on her habits. Although he would never dare say a word against her decisions, Sadie knew he wished she would take better care of herself. Still, he got out of the car and went around to open her door. Sadie buttoned her coat and shifted her body so she could get out of the car feet first. Marco's large form appeared at the window and he reached down for the handle.

The door barely opened before it slammed shut under Marco's weight. A splatter of blood preceded his fall and Sadie blinked stupidly at the red smear trailing down the window and then at the bullet lodged into the reinforced glass window, right at her eye level. Spider cracks fanned out from the impact. Fuzziness distorted the edges of Sadie's vision as a wave of bitter adrenaline flooded her mouth. Her heart barely stumbled over two beats when the cracks spread and she dropped down, just as the window shattered. Sadie felt the shoulder of her coat pull when she fell sideways into the leather seat, rolling all the way onto the hard floor. Chunks of safety glass rained over her body, cascading in a wave. She screamed as the glass plinked off her coat and slipped down her neck and cheek. For a split second Sadie was positive her heart jumped into her raw throat, cutting off her air supply. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood.

"SADIE!" She heard yelling through the shattered window. Marco's voice was strangled with pain but Sadie couldn't get to him.

The back of the driver's seat popped as the taught leather gave under the third shot that blew a hole right through the seat, mere inches above Sadie's head.

"Oh God, oh God, please," she muttered to herself. Even pressed down into the floor of the car, Sadie felt more exposed than she ever had in her entire life. A blast of frigid wind blew thick clumps of snow into the car and over her body. Marco kept yelling her name and she heard the screaming of Stella and Reggie who couldn't go into the street for fear of being shot.

Seconds ticked by and no fourth shot came but Sadie didn't dare move. Not yet. Not until she heard the distant sirens of help. Instead she listened to Marco's pained orders.

"Sadie, stay where you are!"

Sadie couldn't move even if she wanted to. The fear was too great. She squeezed her eyes shut and said a prayer to any god that might be listening to get her and Marco through this alive.

X X X

"Ms. Reid?"

Sadie's ears rang. She hadn't even heard the gunshots but the voice calling her name sounded faraway. Two figures loomed in front of her, one more substantial than the other but both decidedly male in form. Blinking hard up in their direction, Sadie's eyes struggled to adjust and bring the men into focus. When she did it was to see they were both in their early to mid thirties and handsome in their own particular ways. Her eyes dropped down to examine the department store quality button down shirts both men wore with equally inexpensive ties. Lower still she noted two unusual details. Both men carried handguns and wore an NYPD detective's shield on their belts.

"Excuse me, Ms. Reid?"

Sadie shook her head once, bringing the room back into focus. Shakily she stood from her rolling chair. "Yes, I'm sorry," she couldn't bring herself to even so much as try and smile in greeting. "How can I help you?"

The taller and broader of the two men placed a friendly hand on his chest. "Ms. Reid, I'm Detective Dugan and this is my partner Detective Jones. We'd like to take your statement if you don't mind."

Behind Detective Dugan the door to the security office opened and a uniformed police officer entered, carrying a stack of evidence bags. The bottom bag was the largest and through the clear plastic, Sadie could see her ruined ivory coat. The previously pristine, only-worn-once garment sat neatly folded in the bag, showing off the enormous red stain where Sadie used the coat to try and stop Marco's bleeding until the ambulance arrived. Just the sight of the coat turned her stomach and she looked away, lest she lose her stomach. A new thought came to her.

"Is there any word on Marco? My driver? Has someone called his wife? God, she's probably just…freaking out." Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I'm afraid all we know is that Mr. Reyes was taken to the hospital but I do believe a uniformed officer called his wife." Detective Jones' explanation wasn't much of a consolation. He gestured to her chair. "Perhaps you'd like to sit again, Ms. Reid? I know this night has been an ordeal for you."

Sadie glanced at the clock on the wall behind the detectives. The time neared two in the morning. Her knees wobbled uncertainly as she sank back down into her chair. "I've had better."

"Well we'll try to keep this brief and get you home as quickly as we can. We just want to ask you some questions about what happened."

"Of course, whatever you need," her voice sounded faint, drowning in the horrendous ache that bloomed between her temples.

"We've already taken the statements of the front desk managers," said Detective Dugan conversationally. "All we really need to do tonight is confirm their statements and get any other details that you might remember."

"Stella and Reggie, sure, sure," Sadie scrubbed her face with her hands and then wiped the makeup from beneath her eyes with her thumbs. Her eyes burned from the mascara and eyeliner she'd left on for far too long. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with where you were coming from?"

"A date," she said, scrunching her nose. "I'd been to a late dinner at Summit with Henry McAllister III."

"And what time do you remember leaving the date?"

"About twenty minutes after eleven, Marco was dropping me off at the office before heading home for the night."

"Mr. Reyes wasn't going to stay to drive you home?"

Sadie shook her head and watched as Detective Jones scribbled notes on his notepad. Detective Dugan held her with his twinkling blue eyes and his lips twitched beneath his mustache while he waited for her answer. "Uhm, no," she muttered, realizing she was taking too long. "On nights I work late I usually have the front desk call a car service for me."

"Ms. Reid, we've been over the crime scene and it's fairly clear that you were the intended target of the shooting. Can you think of anyone at all who might want to hurt you?"

The question defied her understanding. A deep frown pulled at her lips. It was too late, or perhaps too early, to think about these kinds of things. "I don't know," she muttered truthfully, unable to conjure up any names or faces in her fuzzy mind. "I mean, I have business rivals but nobody that would want to kill me. What kind of a—I can't even," she couldn't answer, her chest welled up as the reality of the situation settled on her. "Someone was really trying to kill me, oh my God."

Sadie blinked and saw the bullet lodged in the window. If not for the reinforced glass that same bullet would be resting between her eyes. Someone shot through Marco to try and kill her? A good man was in the hospital because of her? Her stomach rolled Lurching forward, she motioned for the wastebasket a few feet away. "I'm going to throw up."

The rare tuna steak and seaweed salad from dinner and her sauvignon blanc came up with a vengeance. Sadie was too upset and too sick to even be embarrassed and neither Detective said a word or made a face to indicate they were even remotely phased. A strangely clear voice in the back of her head wondered what they'd seen in their careers, surely worse things than a woman throwing up in a trashcan. For a while she sat with the wastebasket in her hands, hanging her head over it, worried that more would come up. Eventually she heard the door open and then a German-accented voice reached her ears that she'd been desperate to hear.

"Good lord, detectives, what have you done to my boss?"

Sadie lifted her lolling head just in time to see Dr. Abraham Erskine's kind face flicker towards her before zeroing in on the detectives. While the three men went through their introductions, Sadie set the wastebasket down and slowly sat up. A monogrammed handkerchief appeared out of thin air.

"Abe, I couldn't," she muttered but Erskine shook the linen at her.

"You look terrible," he noted and she raised an eyebrow. When he shrugged his shoulder he also gave her a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, telling Sadie he was just as worried as she was sick. "I have a dozen more at home, take it."

Sadie wiped her mouth with one side and turned it over to wipe the cold sweat off her forehead. As daintily as possible she folded the handkerchief in her lap, balling it into her fist. Her mortification finally kicked in when a uniformed officer appeared to take the wastebasket out, taking the smell with him.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice hoarse.

"We've seen way worse, believe me," said Detective Dugan affably. Sadie nodded, her lips tugging into the first ghost of a smile all night. "It's a hell of a thing to process. Dr. Erskine, can you shed any light on the situation for us?"

Erskine dragged a chair up to sit next to Sadie. Reflexively she dropped a hand outwards and he took it, folding it between his. "I'm the executive vice president of RMT and a member of its board of directors." He glanced at Sadie and gave her hand a squeeze. "I served as Sadie's academic advisor in college and advised her research that led to the burn treatment that put RMT on the map. When she formed the company she came to me to help get it off the ground."

Sadie nodded and leaned deeper in her chair, infinitely relieved to have Erskine with her. "There would be no RMT without Dr. Erskine," she affirmed.

"Dr. Erskine, are you aware of any potential threats directed at Sadie or any reason someone might want to hurt her?"

"No direct threats, no," said Erskine automatically. "As the public face of the company and its founder, Sadie is often the target of online abuse and has received threats before but none that stand out in my mind."

But as Erskine spoke a thought came to Sadie. Furrowing her brow she looked to her long-time friend and mentor. "There was," she broke off.

Both detectives sat up higher. "Ms. Reid? Anything helps, if it stood out to you, no matter how insignificant it might seem."

Sadie eyed Detective Jones but relented. "I've received a couple of e-mails to my personal account in the last two weeks. They're pretty innocuous but they caught my attention because my personal e-mail isn't public and I go to great lengths to keep it private. All of my social media accounts are linked to different accounts that my assistant runs."

"Do you remember what the e-mails said?" Detective Jones asked, his pen flying across the page of his small pad.

Sadie frowned. "I don't, I'm sorry. I get so many e-mails everyday and these didn't seem important. But I can provide copies."

"We'd appreciate that," said Detective Dugan. "I know you're ready to get out of here and get some shut eye but I just want to go over what you remember about the shooting. Once we get that I'm going to have a police detail escort you home and stay posted at your building through the night."

Sadie looked to Erskine and he gave her a small, encouraging nod. "Sure," she said, though her body seemed to drag closer to the floor with every breath she took. "What would you like to know?"

X X X

Sadie's headache persisted through the drive home in a police car and in the shower. Sleep finally came to her sometime close to four in the morning only for her phone to start ringing only two hours later. When she lifted her head from her pillows it was to see her personal attorney, Maria Hill, calling her. After Hill, Sadie's phone went haywire with calls from various members of her board of directors, her friends, and even her parents who were both in hysterics and threatening to get on a plane to come see her. By the time Sadie managed to calm her mother down from her ledge it was close to seven o'clock and she was dressed with her hair twisted into a simple, business-like top knot.

True to Maria's word, she arrived at fifteen after seven, carrying her briefcase with two stragglers following her. Sadie let the whole lot into her apartment. "I caught these two waiting on the elevator."

Dr. Erskine held up a large wax-paper bag from the Armenian bakery around the corner from his apartment. "I thought you could use the pick-me-up."

Sadie's mouth watered at the thought of custard-filled sweet bread. "Ponchik?"

"Would I bring anything else?"

"Come on in, Dr. Zola, glad you could join us this morning," Sadie said to the third member of the group.

"Terrible business, Ms. Reid. Simply terrible," he lamented and accepted her greeting, kissing each of her cheeks. "Thank God you're alright."

"I heard from Marco's wife this morning, his exploratory surgery went just fine. The doctors got the bullet fragments out and are discussing next steps. It's going to be a long recovery but he'll be alright in the long-term." Though Sadie knew her colleagues didn't care quite as much about Marco's prognosis as she did, she still felt the need to inform them of his prognosis and of her decision. "The company will cover all of his medical expenses, of course."

"Absolutely," agreed Erskine as they tread into the cavernous kitchen in the heart of Sadie's apartment. Now moving on autopilot, Sadie started to gather the things she needed to make four cups of coffee and Erskine jumped in to help while Maria began unpacking her briefcase and Zola took a tentative seat at the counter, looking more nervous than usual. Maria brushed her dark hair from her eyes and cast a critical glance around the kitchen.

"Where's your assistant? Shouldn't she be here handling this?"

"Wanda's at the office putting out more fires," said Sadie as she fished the coffee bean grinder out of a cabinet. "Apparently the press is camped out at the building waiting for me to arrive and the staff are having a hard time getting in so she's running interference. Probably a better job for her than making you all coffee."

The sardonic note in Sadie's voice was not to be missed, the subtle reminder that she was capable of doing simple tasks like grinding coffee beans and putting them into a French press. With her back turned to the room, Sadie closed her eyes once and blew out an inaudible sigh. Even thinking about returning to the office sounded like a nightmare on top of the dozen she was now already facing. It wasn't until Erskine reached out to take the grinder that Sadie realized her hands were shaking.

"Have you eaten yet?"

She shook her head and he jerked his head towards the counter. "Eat," he commanded gently. "If have you some orange juice drink that too."

Sadie hated being told what to do but her stomach growled, proving Erskine's point and she trailed back to the massive kitchen island and one of the stools there. Sliding into the seat she accepted the bakery bag when Zola handed it to her. While she tore a pastry in half, Sadie's thoughts turned to the few aspects of her situation that she could control. "Have you heard from the police yet?"

Maria nodded. "They called me at seven. The two detectives on the case want to go over the details of the shooting one more time to see if you might have remembered anything additional. They've also asked for a laundry list of information about you and the company."

Sadie didn't expect anything different. Even a few bites of her breakfast helped settle her twisted stomach. Zola reappeared at her side with a glass of orange juice, dragged out from the depths of her fridge. "Have you already called over to Hogarth? If the company's getting dragged into this they'll need to be involved," she said of the law firm that represented RMT, Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz.

"Already done it, Jeri Hogarth wants a meeting with you and with the board before she releases any information to the police. She agrees with me that we should be careful about what we pass along."

A scowl touched Sadie's lips. "Why?"

"Just because the police asks for information doesn't mean it's relevant to catching whoever is threatening you," explained Maria. Already, Sadie could hear the defensive line in Maria's naturally hard voice. Not even a full day removed from the shooting and the woman was putting on her armor to go to war but over what, Sadie had no idea. She supposed she should have been relieved to have an overzealous advocate, but there were lines that had to be drawn.

Sadie drained a quarter of her orange juice, waving a hand to tell Maria to stand down. "I have nothing to hide and neither does the company. As far as I'm concerned the NYPD can have whatever it wants."

Three voices rose up at once to argue with her. "Sadie, be reasonable! Anything we give them could be subject to release in the event of a trial!" Zola exclaimed and Maria nodded in fervent agreement. "That could include financial records, e-mails, research and development!"

"They're not going to need any of our research, Arnim, calm down," Sadie snapped back, exasperated. "Someone tried to kill me last night. Some sick son of a bitch shot an innocent man with three kids! Marco coaches peewee soccer for God's sake."

"Don't let your emotions lead you to foolish decisions," Maria counseled, only further vexing Sadie. "It's awful that your driver was shot, I'm not saying that it's not. But I am saying that he's going to live and there's more at stake here that you have to be cognizant of."

Erskine carried two steaming cups of coffee to the counter. He handed one to Maria and the other to Sadie who stared into the pitch black depths. Deep, deep down, Sadie knew that Zola and Maria were right. Her heart was tangled up with her head and still too close to the shooting to think perfectly rationally. Sadie was afraid to leave her own apartment for fear of not only the press stalking her but of what would happen if there was a next time. She'd been extraordinarily lucky to walk away with nothing more than a headache and a ruined coat. Would she be so lucky next time? That thought alone hardened her resolve.

"If it came down to my death or releasing some company e-mails which would you rather see happen?"

A chilly note touched her tone and all three of her advisors shifted guiltily. It was Erskine who reached across the void to act as the voice of reason. "How about taking this one step at a time?"

"Yes," agreed Sadie. But then, as if the universe knew she was coming close to calming back down, a brand new thought came to her and she nearly slid out of her stool with a groan. "Oh God, the partnership. What the fuck are we gonna do about the partnership?"

To this, nobody had an immediate answer. Zola found his voice first. "Have you heard from Mr. Stark yet?"

"Not yet," replied Sadie over the rim of her coffee cup. "But I'm sure the incoming call is imminent. Jesus Christ, I can't even imagine what he's going to say. What if this fiasco derails the whole thing?"

Sadie could already picture the stony look on Tony Stark's face and the hesitance that would flash in his dark eyes upon hearing the news. Nothing spooked other CEO's quite like the idea that the person on the other side of the negotiation table was going to flake out, or in Sadie's case, keel over and die. The tentative talks she'd had with Tony Stark about a partnership between two branches of their companies were just that, tentative but with the promise of so much more. But Tony, for all of his eccentricities similar to Sadie's own, was a business man just like any other and he would bolt if he thought things wouldn't turn out the way he envisioned them. There were certain details about the potential union between Stark Industries' robotics division and RMT's neurological research department that Sadie knew were deal breakers. Although they'd never discussed the possibility, she was certain her death was one of those deal breakers.

"Perhaps you should turn the reins over to the board," came Zola's timid suggestion. Sadie raised an eyebrow and turned to examine Zola, the head of her R&D department. He shrugged one of his rounded shoulders, covered by a bespoke suit. "Allow us to continue negotiations and broker a deal with Stark and in the meantime you can lay low until this is all resolved, possibly even take a break from the public eye for a while?"

A thick, stifling blanket of tension fell over the room. Buried somewhere in Zola's counsel was a suggestion that rubbed Sadie the wrong way. Scrunching her eyebrows together, she parsed out his words in her mind, trying to figure out what exactly bothered her so much about the almost reasonable advice. Her lips formed the words as they came to her.

"You want me to go into hiding?"

"Only temporarily," said Zola hastily, holding his hands up in defense.

Sadie set her coffee down on the counter next to her forgotten breakfast. A stool away from her, Maria shifted uncomfortably, and opened her mouth to speak but shut it again. Erskine's dark eyes flickered from Zola to Sadie, a familiar expression of long-suffering pulling down his lips into a frown.

There was something attractive in the offer, to sit back and let someone else take the lead on dealing with Stark who was just as difficult as the rumors all said. But the answer came readily to Sadie. "No," she said firmly and out of the corner of her eye watched Erskine exhale as though relieved. "The only reason Stark came to the table at all is because I promised that he and I would helm the deal. If I'm not all in, neither is Stark."

"Which will be of no comfort to anyone if you die in the process," muttered Zola under his breath.

"I'm not afraid," said Sadie though it was a bold-faced lie. She was more afraid than she'd ever been in her life. Even that morning she'd made sure all the curtains were drawn on her tall windows so nobody could see her, so nobody knew where to aim.

"But the police can't keep a private detail on you forever," said Erskine at last, another detail which Sadie hadn't considered. "If you're not going to take a step back then I think it's time you considered alternative options of security."

Sadie was glad she wasn't holding her coffee cup. "Surely you're not suggesting what I think you are."

"It's the best option, the only one at this point," argued Erskine.

"Abraham, no. No! From the outset I've always said no!"

"And you should have been overruled years ago," said Erskine dismissively in a way nobody else could, as though she were behaving like a child. His closed fist pounded once against the counter when she started to argue with him, effectively shutting her up. Sadie peered into his face and saw the darkness there, the memories of a different loss in his life, a loss he refused to repeat. "You should have had a private security detail ages ago but the board let it slide because you keep such a low profile. Things are different now."

"A bodyguard?" Maria surmised and Sadie could hear the approval in the woman's voice.

"Preferably a team of them," explained Erskine. "I even know who to call."

Sadie felt like sitting on her floor and throwing a tantrum. Best interests at heart or not, Sadie wanted to refuse the reasonable advice. A vision of her previously unlimited autonomy went up in smoke before her very eyes. The rumors that would follow her along with a bodyguard started whispering in her ears. Before, Sadie had been afraid of the shadow that followed her into the night and took three shots at her. Now she was afraid of a permanent shadow attached to her every move, a constant presence in her life.

But then she thought about Marco and his teary wife on the phone that morning, telling Sadie not to worry and that everything was going to be fine. She thought about Stella and Reggie and the danger they could have been in. These were people who had families and her attacker clearly didn't care about collateral damage. Would the sight of a body man do enough to scare off whoever was trying to kill her? Sadie hoped it would. At last, Sadie relented with a disappointed sigh.

"It's not a giant company, I hope. I don't want to be placed with an ever-changing rotation of people I'll never remember." Sadie thought of her other corporate friends and acquaintances who seemed to have a different security detail every time she saw them.

"No, no," promised Erskine waving his hand. "It's a young man I know from when I volunteered at a low-income clinic in Brooklyn. He went on to join the army special forces and when he got out he started a small private security company with his wife and best friend. The three of them are slowly building their clientele and already have an excellent reputation. I know Mr. Rogers, he'll happily take a meeting today as a personal favor to me if you request it."

Sadie couldn't help the twisted, inappropriate amusement that bubbled up in her chest. "Mr. Rogers? As in won't you be my neighbor? He doesn't lounge around in sweater vests, does he?"

Erskine fixed her with a glare that would do her father justice. "Do you want me to set up a meeting with Shield Security or not?"

Sadie wasn't sure what she was about to get herself into, but it had to be better than the fear she felt at just setting foot on her elevator. Reaching for her coffee, she took a sip.

"Make the call."

X X X

A shrill ring cut through the near-silence of a dark bedroom. The room's lone occupant groaned and rolled over in his bed. He groped for the phone sitting on his bedside table only to discover the screen black. Flopping back into his pillows, he stared at the dark ceiling and listened to the sound of his second phone ringing across the room. The ringing stopped, going to voicemail and he raised a hand up, counting his fingers down from five and just as he put his last finger down the phone began to ring again.

Throwing the covers back, Bucky Barnes ignored his protesting knees and got out of bed. Padding across the small room he opened the top drawer of the dresser to reveal his second cell phone. An all too familiar name flashed on the screen.

"You do know it's only five in the morning in L.A., right?"

Bucky could practically hear Steve Rogers' shit-eating grin on the other end of the line. "Is it? So weird I could have sworn it was only a two hour time difference."

"That's not funny. What do you want?"

"To talk to you about a new client. You got a few minutes? Or do you need to down a kombucha tea before yoga and meditation?" Steve's amusement served only to further Bucky's sour mood at being woken half an hour earlier than normal.

Wiping his face with his hand, Bucky flipped on the lights in his room. "Are you done yet? Or should I just put you on speaker so I can brush my teeth while you get it out of your system?"

Steve laughed and Bucky could hear the rustling of papers in the background. "I've probably got a few more, but I'll save them for later. Everything's going okay though?"

Bucky paused at the sliding glass door and peered through the curtains. From his lodging at the pool house-turned staff house, he could see the main home where his client was currently sleeping off a guest appearance at a trendy club in Los Angeles. His ears still throbbed from the EDM that blasted from the speakers and he himself was nursing a minor headache from the flashing lights and overpowering smell of spilled alcohol and weed from the VIP lounge. More than once Bucky and the rest of the security team members had to trade places in order to avoid a secondary high from the clouds of pot smoke that obscured the overhead lights and made doing his job infinitely more difficult. The only thing more confounding than the number of cellphone camera flashes going off was the cool one hundred grand his client got paid just for showing up at the night spot for two hours.

"It's fine," Bucky replied, aware that his voice was raw and scratchy. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all night long but he still nursed something akin to a hangover. "But thirty-three is too fucking old to be going into a place called Neon."

Bucky let the curtain drop back. Assured that his client, a nineteen year old Instagram star, model, and aspiring actress, would sleep for at least another two hours before her personal assistant woke her up for morning yoga, Bucky drifted into his kitchen to make a cup of coffee. "That bad, huh?"

"Were we that stupid when were nineteen?" Bucky asked his lifelong best friend.

He could imagine Steve reclining in his office chair and watching the morning activity out of his window. "Considering we were already in the army at nineteen, I doubt it. But the good news for you is that I'm giving you a break. Lang is coming in now to replace you. I need you on a plane this morning, Peg's gonna forward your flight info to you in just a minute."

The news perked Bucky up considerably. He rubbed the back of his neck on the way back to his bedroom. While his coffee brewed and cooled, he went about laying out his clothes for the day on his bed. "You said something about a new client?" He asked while he fished a plain dark grey t-shirt out of the dresser. "Must be important if you're replacing me so I can fly back."

"It's more than important, it would be the biggest contract for the company. Buck, it could put us on the map for high-end clientele."

"So, who is it?"

"The CEO of Reid Medical Technologies. It's Sadie Reid."

The belt in Bucky's hand slipped, hitting the wood floor with a pronounced thunk. "You're kidding."

"I'm not."

"How?"

"You remember Dr. Erskine? The doc who treated me when we were kids?" Bucky would know that name anywhere. Growing up he'd met Dr. Erskine more than once, tagging along with Steve and his mother to doctor's appointments to keep Steve company. If Bucky remembered correctly, Dr. Erskine was a dry but funny sort of man who was endlessly kind and patient with both boys. He'd been in his early forties at the time. When Bucky answered affirmatively, Steve kept going. "Turns out he went on to teach at Columbia University and helped Sadie Reid develop the burn treatment that put her company on the map and ended up as a member of her board of directors."

"Small world, huh?" Bucky mused, raking his fingers through his long hair. "So what's the deal?"

"It's a long story, but the short version is that early this morning someone took a few shots at her town car and the police are convinced she's being targeted. Abe and the board convinced her that she needs round-the-clock protection and he recommended us to her and she's agreed to a meeting. He's asked for the best of our active-duty body men and well, we both know you're being wasted on fighting off paparazzi."

Bucky could hardly believe what he was hearing. Sadie Reid wasn't just a wealthy CEO and she wasn't just high-profile, she was high class, a vast step up from protecting girls who thought wearing a mesh shirt over a bra was suitable attire for the airport. Not only was landing a contract to work for Sadie Reid a huge opportunity to raise Shield Security's status in the private security market, but she was also responsible for personally improving Bucky's life on top of it. He glanced down at his shirtless chest and his left arm, where he could see minimal scarring from burns that would have otherwise ruined his skin. When Bucky went into the hospital seven years earlier with bad burns on his left arm RMT's burn treatment had just been cleared for use on human patients; he'd been one of the first to undergo the treatment program that left his skin almost unblemished.

"When is the meeting?"

"Seven-thirty tonight at her office. Your flight lands at a quarter to six so we'll be pushing it. Peg and I will meet you at the airport and we'll go straight to Century Fellows from there."

Bucky grimaced and checked his reflection. He'd certainly seen better days but his current detail required that he fit her aesthetic as she liked to call it. His long hair and thick stubble were a far cry from Wall Street, so were his black jeans and designer sneakers he wore on duty for his current client. Still, anything that Sadie Reid might require for her own aesthetic Bucky could do, he cleaned up well when the occasion called for it.

"Is there a dossier?"

"You'll have it by the time you board. Ms. Reid's asked us to review samples of her daily schedule as well as the non-disclosure agreements we'll all have to sign if she hires us. Most of it is pretty straight forward except some sections on trade secrets. I should also be getting copies of the police report for this morning's incident or at least notes about the what took place during the shooting. Apparently the police are stumped but they've put a protective detail on her during the initial stage of the investigation."

Bucky frowned. "I'm amazed the NYPD has any officers to spare for a protective detail now."

"Well, I think Sadie's a special exception to the rule. According to what Erskine's said she's a favorite of the mayor and has made several donations to the department."

Of course she had. Bucky fought a scowl. "I guess all those checks paid off in the end."

Steve ignored Bucky's slight. "Check your e-mail, Peggy just send your flight confirmation and boarding passes. You've got a layover in Chicago."

From the depths of his black leather messenger bag, Bucky withdrew his laptop. Sure enough, the e-mail forwarded from Peggy sat in his work e-mail inbox, ready to go. Bucky glanced at the time, it was already getting late. "If I'm gonna make it to the airport in time I've got to go. You called Kendra's manager to let them know Lang's replacing me for the next two days?"

"They're good to go," promised Steve. "I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah," said Bucky, staring at his flight info, already dreading the long day ahead.

X X X

"I hate L.A.," muttered Bucky as soon as he got within earshot of Steve and Peggy Rogers, his best friends and co-founders of Shield Security, Inc. "I fucking hate it."

"Everyone hates it," reasoned Peggy as she swept her brown eyes critically over Bucky's disheveled appearance. At this point, there was very little Bucky could do about his thick stubble of his long hair, which was at the very least clean. He'd only had time for a five minute shower, forced to show up to LAX with still-drying hair and the sinking feeling that the ever-sharp Peggy was going to give him hell for his lackluster appearance. She pursed her lips and thrust a dopp kit into his hands. "But that's no reason to show up for a meeting with one of the most powerful women in the city looking like you've crawled out of an L.A. coke den."

"Well, hello to you too," Bucky groused and he turned to nod once to Steve who held a garment bag in his hand. "Come on, you can fill me in on where we are while I change."

The two men left Peggy standing in the middle of baggage claim but her voice carried after them. "Do something with your hair!"

Bucky winced and cast Steve a sideways glance. "Why did you marry her again?"

Steve's abashed grin was answer enough and Bucky let the subject drop. Ten minutes later they exited the bathroom, Bucky running his hand over the top of his head to ensure his hair was smoothly pulled back in a tight bun away from his face. The style only slightly clashed with the dark navy suit he wore and he chafed at the tie looped beneath the collar of his pale blue shirt. Still, the suit was an oddly nice change of pace from fitted jeans and even tighter t-shirts. Being treated like an actual professional as opposed to a glorified human paparazzi barricade went a long way to make Bucky's long day of travel feel worth it.

A car waited for them and plunged headlong into traffic. The driver, one of Shield's own was an expert on the city grid and managed to avoid several gridlocks while Steve and Peggy went over any last minute notes or concerns they had. Bucky soaked it all up and didn't even flinch when it came up that he was being personally requested to take this detail. He'd expected as much, being the most experienced member of the company and the most highly trained. The detail was closer than Bucky was used to but it was nothing he couldn't handle. How difficult could one twenty-nine year old CEO be?

By some miracle, the car pulled up to Century Fellows Tower with ten minutes to spare. Before Bucky followed Steve and Peggy out of the car, Steve took a deep breath and nodded to his wife and best friend. "Ready?"

"As we'll ever be on such short notice," said Peggy and she slid out of the car, careful with her pencil skirt and high heels.

Like most security firms, Shield Security required a formal interview before inking a contract. The interviews were usually perfunctory, a chance for clients to meet their detail and set forth a list of requirements. In those cases, the mass majority of the necessary information was exchanged between a client's management and Steve or Peggy prior to the meeting. Bucky rarely sat in on interviews unless he was to be assigned to the detail to ensure that no red flags popped up with the client and to make clear the difference between security-related requests and those better-suited for other types of staff.

In his own interviews, Bucky had heard plenty of requests ranging from the style that security needed to emulate to the particulars of wake-up calls, how to address clients, and the hectic travel schedules. Bucky was also used to potential clients coming in late to initial interviews and bringing their entire entourage and army of lawyers with them. When Bucky walked into the sleek lobby of Century Fellows Tower he expected no different from Sadie Reid.

From the second he walked through the doors, he was already doing his job and so were Steve and Peggy.

"What do you think?" Steve asked under his breath as the two men followed Peggy into the elevator lobby.

Bucky swept his eyes around the open space, looking at the common elevators and the overall lax environment. Even the evening after a major crime took place the lobby was strangely relaxed. He'd noted the press vehicles camped outside the entrance in the snow but the police tape was gone and life seemed back to normal. Bucky raised his gaze upwards, to the hollow center of the building, rising like a glass monument all the way to the glass ceiling.

"Minimal security at the desk," he glanced back at the three security guards there and imagined that was one more than the desk usually staffed. "Sniper's paradise."

"Yeah," agreed Steve. "Glass everywhere. And easy access to any of RMT's floors."

The elevator doors opened.

"Boys, come along," said Peggy briskly. She readjusted her hold on her briefcase and strode into the elevator. They rode to the nineteenth floor where they walked into a small annex. A front desk girl buzzed them in and after all three of them signed a log and took visitor's badges they waited. In less than two minutes a middle-aged woman appeared and took them through a warmly lit hallway that opened into a second waiting area, the focal point of which were two doors that opened into a large office.

"Please, wait in here," said the secretary as she gestured Bucky inside with Steve and Peggy.

At once, Bucky could tell this interview was not going to be the usual fare. He expected a conference room and an entire board already waiting. Instead he trailed across the ash-colored hardwood floor and the pale grey walls, warmly lit by overhead lighting. A handsome desk stood further back in the elegant room, flanked by floor to ceiling windows framed with simple ivory curtains. The dark wood contrasted beautifully with the pale colors and Bucky found himself already taking in several details about the owner of the simple but beautiful office.

Steve started to open his mouth when the secretary reappeared to offer drinks to each of them, making a point to learn their names in the process. Bucky and Peggy both asked for coffee while Steve, too nervous, politely refused. Within minutes the secretary returned with a tray that included two cups of coffee and all the additives.

"Please, sit," she gestured to two ivory sofas that took up one corner of the office. "Ms. Reid is finishing a call in the upstairs conference room, she asked me to invite you to get comfortable."

All three of them shared a look before following the secretary's instructions. Bucky unbuttoned his jacket and sank down. Without thinking he handed Peggy the cream and she handed him the sugar before switching. Steve smirked. "Still take your coffee with all that shit in it?"

Bucky smirked, forgetting they hadn't seen each other in nearly two months while he'd been in L.A. "You were expecting something different?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "I figured you'd pick up on the latest craze. What is it now? Putting butter in your coffee or filtering it through cheese cloth or something ridiculous?"

"Actually," said Peggy lightly, meeting Bucky's eyes with a conspiratorial light. "I think they pass it through used air filters before adding just a touch of battery acid to it. Not so different from the sludge you insist on buying for the office."

Bucky's grin widened, he'd missed his friends. Steve opened his mouth to argue but stopped short with a voice drifted through the open doors, followed by the sound of high heels. The steps grew louder and as one, all three of them rose when a young woman strode into the office. She finished speaking to her secretary and turned her head only for her stunning grey eyes to fall immediately on Bucky.

His heart skipped a beat and stumbled over several more.

Part of the dossier he received that morning included a picture of Sadie Reid and he'd looked up several more online but pictures didn't do justice to the beauty who joined them.

"I apologize for my lateness," she explained and Bucky caught the extremely gentle and subtle southern drawl pulling at the end of her vowels. "The only thing the company's lawyers love more than overcharging for research costs is the sound of their own voices." Steve and Peggy both grinned. Sadie held out her hand to Steve. "I'm Sadie Reid."

"Steve Rogers," he shook her hand and gestured to Peggy and Bucky. "These are my business partners, Peggy Rogers and Bucky Barnes."

"Pleasure," said Sadie to Peggy as they shook and then she turned to Bucky and held her hand out to him.

When he touched her he half-expected to feel sparks or electricity jolt up his arm. Instead he felt her long, deceptively strong fingers grip his hand and her vivid grey eyes lock onto his. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Reid" he heard himself saying and she echoed the sentiment before she swept her arms to the sofas.

"Please, sit," she encouraged. "I have the file that your secretary forwarded this afternoon and I'm afraid I haven't had much time to review it but I think I hit the highlights."

Sadie strode to her desk and Bucky fought the base impulse to allow his eyes to drop past her slim waist to her shapely backside and legs. The fitted slate grey dress she wore skimmed her slender curves, rising up to her long neck and espresso hair that she twisted away from her face in a knot. Bucky noted that she walked with confidence that likely came from years of practice. From the top of her desk she collected a folder and returned to sink into the arm chair across from them.

"So, let's get started," she said, slipping into business-mode.

Steve faltered. Where was her board of directors? Where was a skittish personal assistant on the verge of tears? What about the team of lawyers? Bucky wasn't sure who of the three of them was more surprised, but they all followed her lead. For a long moment she flipped through the papers in the file and nobody spoke. Sadie's eyes jumped through the lines until she raised them to drift from one person to the next. There was an unnerving quality about her and a bravery that Bucky foolishly didn't expect. Perhaps she was waiting for one of them to speak or perhaps she was simply sizing each of them up. One way or another she held firm command of the room and at last her lips twitched.

"I believe Dr. Erskine brought you up to speed about this morning's unfortunate incident?"

Unfortunate incident wasn't exactly how Bucky would describe an attempted murder but he appreciated her cool demeanor all the same. Steve jumped in, taking lead for his team. "He did and we're all so relieved to hear you're alright. How is your driver doing?"

Sadie's whole countenance shifted in response to the simple, easy question. When she smiled, Bucky swore he felt his stomach tie itself in a knot. "He's doing better this evening, thank you for asking."

Bucky got the distinct impression that nobody else had asked and he wished he could pat Steve on the back for picking up on that tiny detail. "Now, Dr. Erskine led me to believe that you've never had private security before?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "Never. My town car was fitted with reinforced windows but that was more in the event of an accident and because it was standard practice."

"Thank God for that," said Peggy conversationally. "Those windows likely saved your life."

Sadie's face tightened and she nodded once. "I'd rather not focus on the details of the shooting just now, if you don't mind." Bucky had never heard such a diplomatic tone in his entire life. The phrase 'cool as a cucumber' didn't do this woman justice. "It's been a very trying day and it's my understanding that as private security your role is solely protective and not investigative?"

"Primarily," agreed Steve. "But all of our active duty staff are also trained to be observant and vigilant. Any details we pick up we will pass on to the detectives in charge of the investigation."

When Sadie nodded she also swallowed, Bucky trailed down the line of her neck to the simple silver necklace she wore and he noticed a second, extremely fine chain that disappeared beneath the conservative neckline of her dress. She shifted topics as easily as she shifted her weight in her chair.

"Now then, Abraham assured me that despite your company's relative youth and smaller size you are the best company for this job," she paused, resting one manicured hand atop of the open file in her lap. "Not only do I trust Abraham's opinion, but in my limited review of the public portions of your company's clientele service records and the resumes of your employees, I'm inclined to agree. I'm certainly impressed by the wide array of services that accompany the kind of security the board is insisting upon and the limited information on the resumes of your active duty staff members is impressive. Rest assured, I have no doubt of the competency of your team members." Bucky expected a rather large 'but' coming on. "But protecting up and coming musicians and celebrities made famous by their sex tapes is a far cry from the professional community."

Bucky nearly choked on his coffee. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Steve go ramrod straight and an appreciative smile tugged at the corners of Peggy's normally impassive mouth. From these first minutes alone, Bucky could already see the potential problems cropping up. Fierce independence was a wonderful thing but he preferred it not coincide with his clients. He watched Sadie carefully as Steve began to assure her that they were up to the challenge. She was young, brilliant, and rather shrewd to set up what Bucky suspected was her own test and turn the tables on them. Bucky wondered how many times businessmen foolishly underestimated her, refusing to give credence to the prosperous company she build out of a college dormitory eight years ago. Watching her now as she conversed easily with Steve and Peggy, Bucky realized he couldn't make the same mistake.

Steve went into a familiar speech about the daily duties of her detail and about the specific nature of her case and the changes that they would make to accommodate her. Bucky recalled that Sadie had specifically requested a more permanent face to her detail rather than the rotating schedule that several companies used. Steve rattled off the bullet points that summarized Bucky's resume to a T. Able to adapt to any situation. Performs well under stress. Ex-military. Licensed to carry in nearly all fifty states. Able to travel at a moment's notice.

"And who do you have in mind?"

Steve and Peggy's gazes shifted to Bucky. He wasn't watching them, however, as he couldn't take his eyes off Sadie's when she turned the full force of her attention on him. "Abraham requested our best team member to head up your detail and Bucky is the best, bar none."

Bucky wanted to wince both at the phrase and Steve's aw-shucks colloquialism. He prided himself on having a poker straight face but he wasn't prepared for Sadie's. Just like Peggy, her eagle eyes took in the details of his appearance and his did his damn best not to shift in his seat.

"I see," she said slowly and this time Bucky knew he heard the southern drawl, sweetening the otherwise unimpressed tenor of her voice. She focused on the beginnings of his beard and his hair. "And you have experience with executives? Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky didn't miss how she avoided the topic of gender. If she did he would too. "Yes, Ms. Reid. Prior to my most recent detail I worked for an executive of a smaller company."

Sadie nodded and then, without warning, rose to her feet. She paced a few steps, giving Bucky no insight into what she was thinking. But then she stopped and put her hands on her narrow hips, blowing out a hard sigh.

"I feel like I should make it clear that the last twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind for me and I'm staring at a complete change in my day-to-day life. One of the benefits of being the CEO of a medical tech company is that it's not very sexy and the average person has no idea who I am. I've been able to fly under the radar for the better part of the last eight years and now I'm being told that not only is someone trying to kill me for reasons unknown, but that nobody knows who is doing it and I need to be under constant protection. All of this is happening on the eve of negotiations that could change the face of medicine as we know it and all of my rambling is to make this point: people in the business community spook easily. So what I need more than anything is discretion."

When Steve asked her to expand, she didn't hesitate but spoke directly to Bucky. "Mr. Barnes, if you're going to be accompanying me everywhere I go then I would like to pass you off as one of my associates or a personal aide as often as possible. That means you would need to make some adjustments to your general aesthetic. Whatever worked for your last client is not going to work on Wall Street."

Bucky expected nothing different and nothing less of her. He kept his whole focus on Sadie so as to avoid Peggy's I-told-you-so face. "Please, tell me what you require, Ms. Reid." She shifted uncomfortably on her high heels and started to speak but hesitated. At last he saw a chink in her armor, the tiniest sliver of vulnerability and he realized then just how deeply uncomfortable she was with this whole situation. As her protection it was his job to help ease that situation. He gave her a small smile and raised his hand to his hair. "I should probably apologize for my appearance, Ms. Reid. My flight out of Los Angeles was late notice and I didn't have time to clean up to my usual standards. I'll be happy to cut my hair and shave."

That had done the trick. The fleeting beginning of a rapport bloomed into life between them. Sadie's posture relaxed, as though she'd finally made up her mind and she rest her forearms on the back of her chair. "No all black either, please. It tends to draw attention. The company is happy to provide a generous stipend to assist with supplementing your wardrobe considering suit and tie is the norm around here. My personal tailor is also standing by to do a rush job once she gets your measurements."

That was something new. "Of course, Ms. Reid. Whatever you need."

The stock standard answer seemed to please her well enough and she came around, taking a seat once more. She started to reach for the folder to begin discussing more details but paused, and rubbed the back of her neck. The entirety of her façade slipped and she smiled. "I'm sorry for the unconventional first meeting. I promise it won't be a regular thing. To be honest, most people tend not to take me seriously when I'm surrounded by the wolves. I really just wanted to see how you'd all react to just me. Abraham was furious when I told him what I wanted to do but I've always been a little unconventional. He's waiting in one of our conference rooms now. Perhaps you'd like to join us and order some Chinese while we hammer out the final details and ink a contract?"

Someone could have knocked Bucky over with a feather. "I—yes, Ms. Reid. I think all of us could eat."

"Wonderful," she said with a warm smile. "I know Abe is really looking forward to seeing you again."

Bucky had no choice but to follow Steve and Peggy from the office and jump down the rabbit hole. He had no idea how this was all going to go but he knew one thing for certain. He was going to have his work cut out for him with Sadie Reid.

 **A/N: So there we have it. Next chapter features Bucky's first day on the job, an appearance by Tony and some professional tension!**

 **Let me know what you think – I love feedback! Much love, Kappa.**


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